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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630446">i'll love you till the end of the earth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesails/pseuds/piratesails'>piratesails</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Domestic Bliss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, Swan-Jones Family (Once Upon a Time), lots of headcanons and family feelings and not much else</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:35:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesails/pseuds/piratesails</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of canon-related prompts and drabbles, from missing scenes and speculation to domestic fluff and and everything in between. Originally posted on tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones &amp; Henry Mills &amp; Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so I've been meaning to put together a collection for a very long time and I'm finally getting around to it several years later. each chapter is a different ficlet, posted in no real order, and updated whenever I have the time, enjoy!</p><p> </p><p>1. set in the six weeks after 4a, Killian uses the time to teach Emma how to swordfight<br/>(originally written in may, 2015)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She spends most of her time on her magic, learning how to let it seep through her, to allow it to become a part of her, to let herself become a part of it. And, it’s only been two weeks since the mess of it all thrummed down to a faint murmur (the town is thawing - terribly slowly, she might add - and some of the people are still recovering from the aftermaths of Ingrid’s spell), but she feels at ease.</p><p>It’s on the odd days, when she’s got an hour or two to spare between saviour duties and sheriff duties and babysitting her brother and <em>God</em>, she doesn’t realise how tense she is until she picks up the sword and swipes it through the air, albeit in a rather uncoordinated motion. She figured out a few days ago that she needed to keep up with the villains from the Enchanted Forest in case it came down to an all-around fist fight (well, <em>swordfight</em>), because she knows she won’t be as lucky as she was once at Lake Nostos.</p><p>She smirks at the memory, the wind that had whipped her hair as she tried to match his stepping. The damn pirate had let her win, she knew that, even if she’d never admit it.</p><p>“Your elbow is far too close to your chest.”</p><p>She starts at the voice, <em>his</em> voice, and turns around to find him leaning against the back wall of one of the buildings, arms crossed and a smug smile plastered across his face. She smiles at him, <em>speak of the devil</em>, as he pushes himself off his back support and saunters over to her.</p><p>“Aren’t you supposed to be with Belle?” Her eyelashes flutter at their own regard when he steps into her space, faces barely a breath away, her grip on the handle of the sword tightening ever so slightly. She’s gotten used to this, this casual intimacy.</p><p>“Aye, but I excused myself,” his hand comes up to play with the ends of her hair. “And I can say I’m glad I did, who else would point out your poor form?”</p><p>She shoves him back as he lets out a chuckle, eyebrow rising ridiculously on his forehead. She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth to stop from giggling. (Emma Swan does <em>not </em>giggle.)</p><p>Turning to her side, she raises the sword once again, positioning her feet as best as she can. Even after practicing with it several times, her father’s sword still feels heavy in her hand. She cocks her head slightly to the side, and she can feel his eyes on her, can feel his smirk melting into something softer.</p><p>And then he’s behind her. His hooked hand hovering just beside her waistline, the other snaking down her shoulder to grip hers. “Here,” his voice is barely a whisper, the huff of breath against the skin just under her ear sending a shiver down to the base of her spine, “allow me to assist you, love.”</p><p>He pulls out her arm slightly away from her body, and then moves the sword around in a clockwork motion, flicking their wrists as it comes full circle to stab at the air before them. He’s molded his body completely against hers, her back resting on his chest while his hook crawls higher to her waist.</p><p>“Relax your shoulders, Swan. And trust me, I’ve taught many a sailor how to wield a weapon.”</p><p>She laughs at the thought of Killian pressed up against Smee as he is against her, and she can feel his answering grin on the side of her neck as if he’s reading her thoughts.</p><p>(She will never understand how he seems to just perpetually smell like the ocean despite not having spent more than a few hours near the docks at a time.)</p><p>(Not that she’s complaining.)</p><p>“Open your legs a bit, darling.” Her sharp intake of breath at that causes him to huff out a laugh and even now, she hasn’t completely managed to still her rapidly beating heart at his distinct innuendos. Still, she does as he says, lost in the ease of his voice that is equal parts commanding and soft. “That’s a good girl, and bend your knees.”</p><p>He skims his nose against her jawline, guiding her to swipe the air in an elegant motion, far more reformed than her own ones. And she is so glad that she picked the deserted, far side of town to practice, not wanting to even imagine how her parents (her father, mostly) would react to the rather <em>compromising </em>position they’re both in.</p><p>“Once you become an expert,” and really, she’s not even paying attention to what he’s teaching her anymore, too caught up in the lilt of his words and the terribly close proximity, “your subconscious takes over.” He swipes the air once more and places a soft kiss on the underside of her jaw, causing her to tilt her head back, a need to be closer to him.</p><p>Her eyes flutter closed as his lips hover over her skin. She hums.</p><p>“Muscle memory.” And she doesn’t intend for her voice to be so breathy but damn him if he doesn’t always have an effect on her.</p><p>She opens her eyes and cranes her neck so she’s facing him, not even waiting a beat to lean up and crush her lips against his. She feels his complacent smile, the cocky bastard, but when she pulls away, his countenance changes into something more blissful as his eyes roam her face. His hooked arm is wrapped around her waist, she realizes, and his thumb is rubbing soft circles on the side of her hand, sword loosely clutched and pointing downwards. The constant brush of his cold ring against her skin does little to stop the fact that she can practically feel her magic rush through her.</p><p>She lets the sword fall to the ground, dropping all pretense of <em>learning</em>, and turns in his arms. Her hands are on his chest, fingers contracting against his vest and she’s sure her expression mirrors his (with what his ridiculous grin that causes his dimples to flash, and his eyes so full of unwavering adoration). She moves in for another kiss, but then her phone rings - a shrilling thing piercing the gentle air.</p><p>She squeezes her eyes shut, groans. He laughs as she steps out of his embrace and answers her phone, all the while thinking about how she really just <em>doesn’t give a damn </em>that one of the dwarves’ roof is leaking with the remains of the snow, and does she look like a goddamn plumber? But she sighs, and agrees to check it out.</p><p>“Duty calls?” He smiles as she shoves her phone back into her jean pocket and bends to pick the sword from the ground.</p><p>“Yeah.” She really tries not to make it sound like a grumble, but it comes out like that anyway.</p><p>“Well,” he moves to stand right in front of her again, “we can always continue this tomorrow.” And even though he follows it up with a nonchalant shrug and a suggestive eyebrow raise, she can see the hopefulness in his piercing blue eyes, the still present doubt that breaks her heart.</p><p>She places a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling softly at him when they part.</p><p>“I’d like that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>2. anon prompt: Captain Cobra bonding over worrying about Emma's whole "potential for darkness" thing. set in season 4.<br/>(originally posted in april, 2015)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“She’s going to be fine, you know.”</p><p>Killian startles out of his thoughts as the voice pierces through him. He’s sitting at a lone booth at Granny’s, the one tucked away in the corner at the back, with what is now a cold cup of coffee sitting untouched in front of him. He looks up to find Henry shuffling into the seat opposite to him; either he was far too lost in his own mind to notice, or the boy would make a hell of a pirate. (Just like his mother.)</p><p>“What was that, lad?”</p><p>“My mom, she’s going to be fine.”</p><p>He stares at the lad for a few beats, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. <em>Bloody perceptive family.</em></p><p>“And why,” he shifts, bringing his arms to rest on the table so he can lean into the lad, “would you believe I was pondering on that?”</p><p>He shrugs. (He is so much like his father.) “Because I was worried, too. But, I know her and there’s no way she’s going to let anyone turn her into a villain.” He pauses before matter-of-factly adding, “She’s the saviour.”</p><p>And he knows he should be strong, at least for the lad that he’s come to care so much for, but it slips out - the fear and the thought of loss - and he fumbles. “Aye, perhaps, but if this author is involved, how much of it is in her hands?”</p><p>Henry considers him for a moment, tilting his head to one side, and when he opens his mouth, Killian is left in stunned silence. “Don’t worry, even if they curse her somehow, you’ll bring her back.”</p><p>“Wh-what was that?” He chokes it out after what seems like far too long of a pause. He’s not sure he’s heard the boy properly (or, he just doesn’t want to get his hopes up).</p><p>“True Love’s Kiss,” and he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like she is his true love (she is), and he is hers, but - “She loves you.”</p><p>He swallows with difficulty and cranes into his seat, resting his back for support because he’s sure he’s going to just <em>fall over</em> at this rate. He knows that Emma cares for him, she’s shown him on multiple occasions, but True Love?</p><p>(He can’t believe that.)</p><p>(He doesn’t want to believe that.)</p><p>(He’s too afraid of losing her to even consider it.)</p><p>He finds his voice quickly, he lifts an eyebrow and flashes the boy a smile, “And what would make you say that?”</p><p>Henry flashes him a look, the one that his Swan is far too used to giving him, the one that tells him that it’s obvious, that he’s being utterly foolish, ridiculous. And he can’t help the easy grin that eases on to his face. He reaches out to ruffle the lad’s hair.</p><p>“How can she go dark when she has a lad like you cheering her on, eh?”</p><p>“Like us,” he says with a grin. (It feels oddly like permission, like acceptance.)</p><p>And Killian can’t help the surge of something like joy that jolts through his body; like the feeling of the open sea, the feeling of soft murmurs in the dead of the night as he plays with the ends of her golden hair, the feeling of arms around him to keep him from falling apart. This is what home feels like, he thinks, what a family feels like. </p><p>“Come on,” Henry suddenly bolts up from his seat and all but grabs Killian’s hand to pull him along to the front entrance. “I haven’t seen your ship yet!”</p><p>And really, the lad has grown so much since Neverland, but his excitement remains the same and Killian can’t help but let out a light laugh of amusement at that.</p><p>“Aye, lad, if memory serves, you haven’t steered her yet, have you? We should change that.”</p><p>And he wonders if the grin on his face rivals the one on Henry’s.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>3. dialogue prompt: “You have the most amazing eyes.”<br/>(originally posted in feb, 2017)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You have the most amazing eyes.”</p><p>The sentence drops unbidden from Emma’s lips, a soft string of words that breaks the comfortable silence between them and causes Killian to halt his caressing fingers.</p><p>He pulls back a little to look at her, equal parts confused and amused.</p><p>They’d been sitting pressed against each other on the balcony of their bedroom for what felt like hours. After the griffin had attacked Storybrooke last week, she’d only finished with handling repairs and complaints late last night. Her dad had insisted (in what she could tell was his Royal Voice) that she stay at home for the next few days. Killian had agreed, texting David sporadically throughout the day to ensure him that she was, in fact, relaxing.</p><p>(She’ll never understand their relationship.)</p><p>Killian’s insistence is how they ended up cuddled together, watching the perfect view of the sea, with mugs of hot chocolate to keep the chill away. Emma doesn’t know when she stopped mapping the horizon and instead started mapping the planes of Killian’s face, just that she didn’t really want to stop. And then the evening started approaching, and in the light of the golden hour, well, she just couldn’t help but make her judgment out loud.</p><p>“Have you only noticed them now, love? You sure know how to wound a man,” he chuckles, voice as quiet as hers was.</p><p>Emma smirks. “Please. I was just making an observation,” she taps once at his chest with her hand that’s resting there.</p><p>He hums, resumes running his fingers up and down her arm but doesn’t break eye contact. “I’d say it was more of an opinion, Swan. Which could only mean you’re trying to seduce me with your words, and although I am a man of honour, I do accept.”</p><p>He says it with such propriety that Emma can’t help but laugh. When he breaks out into a full grin, she knows that’s what he was going for.</p><p>Emma reaches up and runs a thumb under the curve of his eye. It makes his expression soften, his eyelashes flutter. (And yeah, he’s got amazing eyelashes, too.) He doesn’t wear as much kohl anymore, only a little, and sometimes he forgoes it completely. It used to make his eyes brighter, but she finds his eyes are already a colour she can’t quite describe. It’s like someone mixed all the oceans together to create the most striking blue.</p><p>“Your brother’s were a different shade,” she muses, knitting her brows in concentration to make sure she’s remembering Liam correctly.</p><p>Killian nods, leaning into her palm. “I took after my mother in that regard, or so Liam told me.” He smiles, and she can’t help but mirror it. When she leans into him, he doesn’t hesitate to respond with a lingering kiss that she can feel down to her toes.</p><p>“If you keep staring at me, you’re going to miss the sunset,” he says with a smirk when he pulls back. He raises an eyebrow for good measure when she doesn’t look away from him.</p><p>“I think I like this view better,” she hums.</p><p>Killian looks down and then back at the water, an adorable rosy hue tinting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. She wonders just how long he had to go without someone offering him a genuine compliment based off of a simple observation. She thumbs at his cheeks for a moment before dropping her hand back to his chest, the other playing with the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck.</p><p>She wants to tell him about all the amazing things he is, and she promises herself to do just that.</p><p>Killian presses her a little closer to him. They fall back into silence, and Emma watches his gentle expression as he watches the water, his eyes like the ocean calming her like no other thing can.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>3. dialogue prompt: “What other hidden talents do you have?”<br/>(originally written in jan, 2017)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The delighted shouts of children is how she finds Killian. She’d lost him when she’d gone to get them both (too greasy and too sugary) carnival food, and she’d been wandering around for the better half of five minutes, cursing herself for not taking him with her.</p><p>Sure, the man was a Captain and could probably find his way out of a maze using just his intellect. But this was the first time they’d gone out of Storybrooke, taken a vacation on the insistence of her family. The one moment in a long while they have to themselves, and she’d lost him in a crowd where the evening light made every tall, dark haired guy look a little bit like him.</p><p>And then she hears the children, and the distinct laugh that she’d recognise anywhere. And surely enough, when she whips around, he’s hunched over one of those claw machines, surrounded by several children, their parents to the sides. She inches closer and sees that in a move of perfect synchronisation, he manages to pick up and win a pink and white teddy bear. He takes it out and hands it to a little girl standing next to him, who hugs it close to her chest.</p><p>“I see you’ve made some fans,” Emma says when she’s next to him, adoration seeping into her words.</p><p>“Swan,” he grins. “I apologise for wandering off but a man told me to try my luck tossing a number of balls into a single barrel and you know I can’t say no to a challenge.”</p><p>“Wait, are you telling me you won that game?”</p><p>Killian nods eagerly, the excitement shining in his eyes. “Aye, and there was one where I had to knock down drinking cups, and another that required my adept aim and throwing arm to burst some rubber <em>things</em>.”</p><p>“Balloons,” she tells him.</p><p>“Aye, balloons.” He purses his lips as he says it.</p><p>She reaches up to tug at the scarf around his neck that’s whipping softly in the cold wind. “And these kids?”</p><p>He shrugs. “Well, I didn’t know what to do of toys stuffed with large amounts of cotton, but the children seem to like them so I just started giving them out.” He looks around, and notices several still there. “Just a moment, little ones, and I’ll be back to handing out your animals,” he tells them, only for them to groan in unison, impatiently.</p><p>Emma laughs, and lowers her voice so only he can hear it. “Captain Hook and carnival games, huh? Never would have thought of that combination. What other hidden talents do you have?”</p><p>Killian quirks an eyebrow, his mouth falling into a teasing smirk. He reaches up to play with the ends of her hair. “Swan, you very well know how I adept I am with just the one hand.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes, but tightens her fingers around his scarf in memory. She shakes her head before she does something like pulls him behind a carnival booth and gets banned for public indecency. “You know, it’s customary in this land to win your girlfriend prizes at the fair.”</p><p>Killian looks slightly confused at the information but understands quickly. “In that case, I’ll just have to win you the largest one, won’t I?” He leans forward to kiss her, perhaps a little too hard for a family oriented place like this, but she isn’t complaining. He pulls back, his hand still in her hair, and nods his head. “But, after I procure prizes for these little ones, that is.”</p><p>“Yeah,” she says, “go be their hero.”</p><p>He scrunches his nose up adorably, and she knows that even after all this time the title still feels foreign to him most days. She kisses him before he can deny it, and then pushes at his chest, the material of his navy pea coat warm under her fingers. He gets the hint, and with a wink to her, he announces to the children that he’s ready to be at their service. Emma can’t wipe the grin of her face for the rest of the night, her arm wrapped around his left elbow and after every win, his lips pressed to hers. And if she thinks about going to another carnival in a few years, and Killian winning prizes for a little girl with her hair and his eyes, well, who can blame her, really?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>5. a baby bit headcanon post-6x01 <br/>(originally written in sept, 2016)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Emma tells him it’s stress, but he sees the way her eyes widen whenever it happens – a tremor that begins its course from the tips of her fingers and travels up, up, up, until it’s almost at her elbow.</p><p>She tries to hide it, turns her back, shoves her hand in her jacket pocket, runs it through her hair. Emma buries it under habits, and smiles harder, and tells him it’s nothing.</p><p>He knows it isn’t.</p><p>Somewhere in his chest, he feels a pang of hurt every time she brushes off his concern, a clawing sensation that slowly works its way to his throat if he keeps it on his mind for long enough. After everything they’ve been through, Emma still hides behind her armour.</p><p>But in a lot of ways, she doesn’t. It’s the little things. The way she lets him play with her hair when they’ve crashed on the couch after a long day of running around town, too tired to reach the bedroom to fall asleep. The way she reaches for him by the zippers of his jacket, and presses her nose in the hollow between his collarbones. How she asks him to tell her stories when she can’t sleep, takes him to dinners with her parents, lets him teach Henry how to sword fight.</p><p>It’s the little things that tell him he’s come a long way from guarded smiles and hurtful words. She needs time, he knows. But despite all her absurd notions of wanting to fight this battle on her own, she needs support.</p><p>The next time her hand shakes, Killian remembers how far they’ve come. He reaches for her fingers slowly over the top of their dining table, enough so she can pull back if she needs to. He tightens his hold on her, and the shaking tampers down to a small jump every other second.</p><p>“It’s just-”</p><p>“Stress,” he cuts her off. “Aye, you’ve said.”</p><p>“It’ll go away eventually.” She scrunches her brows together like she doesn’t quite believe it.</p><p>Her hand stops jolting entirely and she waits a few seconds before lacing her fingers with his and squeezing, this time his heart being the one that does a little jump.</p><p>“I’m here, Swan,” he reminds her, hoping she’ll unload the burden that weighs down on her shoulders. “You only need ask.”</p><p>She sighs, a sound that seems to carry a jumble of emotions. “I know,” she admits. He leans forward and leaves a lingering kiss on her forehead, an encouraging smile following close behind. She returns it, pulling their joint hands until she’s holding them against her chest.</p><p>He knows her, knows the look of gratitude and apology she’s giving him. She won’t tell him, maybe not for a while, but it doesn’t change the fact that he will never let go.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="media">
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>6. an angsty drabble in which Killian deals with the direct aftermath of the Elevator Scene™ in 5x20<br/>(originally written in may, 2016)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He doesn’t know how long he stands there, staring at the gaping hole where the elevator once was. He can’t will himself to move - not if it means he’ll only stagger backwards to fall back on weak knees and a broken heart. </p><p>(If he had a heart but- that’s just the problem, isn’t it?)</p><p>His hand curls into a fist, hard enough that his rings bite into his skin but it’s a tad better than the alternative of leaving his fingers to hover mid air while he feels the burn of the absence of Emma’s hand in his. He keeps his lips squeezed together for good measure, too, lest he part them and forget the way she tasted (the salt of tears, and all). </p><p>He isn’t sure what to do. Not with his body, not with himself. Perhaps, he thinks, he’s destined to spend eternity here, with his back against the rocks and his being so achingly numb. He wants to be angry, to blame Hades and curse up a storm. He wants to be angry, but he can barely move.</p><p>(The <em>I love you, too</em> rings in his head far too loudly to make sense of anything else but the echo of her voice.)</p><p>He pulls at the end of his jacket in a vain attempt to stop his hand from fidgeting, and he imagines Emma reaching her home safely. He imagines her boy and her parents - his <em>friends - </em>and for a split second, he feels his lips upturn at the thought of the love that surrounds her. The love that seems to follow her wherever she goes; the exact one that she had spread into his poor, bitter heart, reteaching him the happiness of living without vengeance.</p><p>Killian doesn’t regret it, any of it. He might not feel anything substantial, but he also feels no remorse, resolutely sure he would do everything the same way a thousand times over if given the chance. The deep, shaking breath he exhales leaves his body wracking with another sob, but then he finally, <em>finally</em>, manages a stumbling step forward. He may not be alive, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to bind himself to this bloody rockface. </p><p>He grants himself that small moment of weakness as he presses his fingers to his lips and screws his eyes shut. He will not see Emma again - and he doesn’t have a heart but he’s certain he feels a pang with the sense of loss. Perhaps, in another life. But now, he has a promise to keep to his true love, and he’s always been a man of his word, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>7. dialogue prompt: “Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”, aka some setting-up-the-house shenaningans<br/>(originally written in march, 2016)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the year that she’s had to deal with, after the magic and the witches and the fucking Underworld, you’d think that the few weeks of peace she’s been given would go on without any form of destruction occurring.</p>
<p>But she supposes, in hindsight, she was fooling herself; she does, in fact, live with a pirate captain and a thirteen year old boy. Trudging home from another monotonous day at the station to find that the spare room in their house had been more or less trashed wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting, though.</p>
<p>She stands at the doorway of the large room that she and Killian had agreed a week prior would work as their study slash reading room, especially considering Killian’s extensive library collection. How the man managed to stash so many books just in his cabin at the Jolly is beyond her.</p>
<p>It’s a riotous mess — and that in itself is an understatement. A layer of unfinished paint haphazardly covers the walls, the newspaper that had been laid on the ground along one wall is scrunched up in a number of places, and, of course, there’s the broken lamp in the corner of the room along with muddy footprints on the hardwood. She thinks she spots tufts of fur and feathers, and wads of tissue paper, but she really does not want to think about that right now.</p>
<p>All she can do is cross her arms and hone in on the two people standing at the center of it all, both their shoulders slumped, despite their jovial (<em>phony</em>) expressions.</p>
<p>Still, it’s a blow to his character if she thought Killian wouldn’t be the one stepping up first. “Welcome home, Swan,” he pastes on a nonchalant grin.</p>
<p>“Hi, mom!” Henry cheers. Clearly they’ve thought out a strategy here.</p>
<p>“What the hell, guys,” she cuts straight to the chase, really not in the mood for this roundabout crap right now.</p>
<p>“Now, love, before you decide to murder us, let me explain,” he stalks closer, holding out his hand and hook as though he’s trying to tame her. There’s patches of beige paint across his vest and a few drops on his jeans that have dried out now. It’s a strange look, but he still manages to make it work, somehow.</p>
<p>“Oh, this ought to be good,” she darts her eyes from Killian to Henry, her son at least having the decency to look a bit guilty.</p>
<p>“You see,” Killian begins, “the lad and I had to move the lamp in here because it offers perfect lighting for the room, and we had to make sure that it went with the colour of the wall that we procured.”</p>
<p>“And then there was a dog,” Henry interrupts, “and obviously we couldn’t keep him out in the cold so we brought him inside—”</p>
<p>“Aye, but then came the birds, and gods, Swan, remind me never again to open the top stairs window because getting those little heathens out of here was a bloody task—”</p>
<p>“And then the lamp broke and—”</p>
<p>“Okay, enough,” she holds her hands up in surrender, and sighs. “And I thought Hades was a handful.”</p>
<p>Killian’s by her side now, his hand rubbing soothing circles between her shoulderblades. “I apologise, love, Henry and I will get this cleaned up.”</p>
<p>She eyes him for a second, not quite sure that she can trust the two of them to get everything back to how it was without herding in a dragon in here next. “I’ll help.”</p>
<p>“You’ve had a long day at work, you should rest,” Henry says, coming up to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and when did her kid get so tall?</p>
<p>“I’m fine, really.”</p>
<p>“Do you not trust us, Swan?” Killian narrows his eyes at her.</p>
<p>“Do you blame me?”</p>
<p>“Fair enough,” he scratches behind his ear in that bashful way of his.</p>
<p>“How about I get the coffee started first?” she says, leaning into Henry’s side hug before pushing herself towards the hallway. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”</p>
<p>And maybe it isn’t too bad, she thinks as she lets Killian and Henry’s laughter filter through the air and fill up the silence of the house, things were getting a bit boring around here, anyway.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>8. an itty bitty missing scene drabble set after their cemetery reunion scene in 5x21<br/>(originally written in may, 2016)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If she presses up against him any more, she’ll melt right into him. From where she is, she can see the raindrops clinging to his eyelashes as he blinks at her, his smile forming soft and slow the longer his eyes linger on hers.</p><p>She wants to kiss him again but instead presses the cold tip of her nose into his neck for a few seconds, feeling his left arm tighten around her waist in response. Then she’s pulling back only enough to clutch his hand between hers and drag him out of the cemetery.</p><p>Her trudge to Granny’s is slow, equal parts because of how sluggish she feels after the events of the day, and because of the fact that she’s latched herself onto the pirate beside her and wants to keep him for herself just a little longer.</p><p>His arm finds his way around her shoulders when she inhales heavily, a shaking sob dislodging itself from the back of her throat. It’s all so overwhelming and unreal, but she’s had faith in less and been proved wrong before. Emma has a lot of questions but they all fall away with every featherlight touch of his.</p><p><em>How did you get the pages to me? </em>A kiss on her cheek.</p><p><em>Zeus? As in the old guy with the orange aura and the Santa laugh? </em>The trail of random patterns he leaves with his fingers on her upper arm.</p><p><em>Whose heart is in your chest?</em> His breath fanning over her forehead as he releases a huff of laughter that sounds a lot like disbelief.</p><p>The flat of her palm finds the side of his neck, feeling the steady thud of his pulse, its rhythm a reminder to everything she thought she’d lost. She has so many questions and yet the only thing that comes out of her mouth is a quiet, “You found your way back.”</p><p>And it seems like another conversation from another time, when her heart was only just exposed to the darkness and he hadn’t been battered and bruised and dead, and <em>has anything stopped me before?</em></p><p>His lips brush the side of her mouth. “To you, always.”</p><p>If Emma has faith in one thing, it’s that.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>9. dialogue prompt: “That’s the third time I’ve saved your life!” — just some soft swan-jones family feels<br/>(originally written in march, 2016)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Killian grumbles under his breath, bending even more forwards so his elbows rest on his knees. He’s sailed his crew through countless storms, fought the most ruthless of men and women that litter the kingdoms, faced the bloody demon lord of the Underworld, but none of that real world experience amounts to anything when it comes to the blasted magic box. <em>Television</em>, he hears Emma correct him in his head. Not like being considerate of the device is going to make any difference to his current situation.</p><p>“You have to press the buttons together to attack,” Henry reminds him for the fourth time in the last half an hour.</p><p>“I know,” he grits out, “but it’s bloody demanding when you’ve only got the one hand.”</p><p>He’s certain he hears Emma snicker from the kitchen and it only makes him frown at the screen harder. He’d come home to find Henry laying on the couch with his <em>video game</em> and somehow the lad convinced him to give it a try. It’s some sort of quest where the heroes have to go through stages of dungeons in order to get to the final one and save the captured king. Right now, though, it’s some sort of nightmare.</p><p>“Never thought I’d see the day Captain Hook was bested by something,” Emma teases, finding her way to his side, slumping down on the couch with a mug of tea. She places one for him on the coffee table in front of him and then pulls her legs up under her to burrow further into the cushions.</p><p>He cranes his neck back to smile at her softly in gratitude and in affection and in every other word he can muster up in the back of his mind.</p><p>They’ve come so far, the three of them, that it almost feels like it isn’t real.</p><p>(The photos around their home, the easy way in which Emma kisses him awake every morning, how Henry doesn’t hesitate to hug him, the ring on Emma’s finger — they all say otherwise.)</p><p>Emma reaches out to press gently at the space between his shoulderblades, her pressure easily felt since he’s shed his jacket and vest on the armchair. His work at the harbour isn’t tedious by any means compared to the things he’s done over the centuries for survival (the things he’d done in Neverland alone), but it still takes a toll on him at the end of the day. Perhaps the monotony has made him softer. He can’t find it in himself to mind, really.</p><p>He’s still staring at Emma’s dimpled smile when there’s a shrilling noise from the screen and a groan of annoyance from Henry. He turns back abruptly as the man that he’s been controlling is nearly drained of his life before Henry’s man fends off the beast gnawing at him.</p><p>“Killian,” he groans, “that’s the third time I’ve saved your life!”</p><p>Emma laughs, enough that she has to lean against him to steady herself, “Welcome to the club, kid.”</p><p>“Seriously, mom, I don’t know how you do it,” Henry chuckles, shifting his gaze between the screen and the pair of them.</p><p>Killian mutters under his breath exasperatedly, because he loves them without a doubt, but his ego can only take so many blows at a time. “Bloody magic boxes.”</p><p>She leans against him, consciously now, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. Almost automatically, he eases his stance a little so that it’s more comfortable for her. “You’ll get the hang of it,” she says quietly, curling herself into his side as carefully as she can manage with the mug in her hand.</p><p>He turns his head to place a kiss in her hair without taking his eyes of the screen. In the same softness, he replies, “Ever the one full of hope, you are.”</p><p>“What can I say? It’s a family problem.”</p><p>“Indeed, it is.”</p><p>He has to chuckle the next time he gets distracted by Emma’s hand in his hair and Henry grunts in disgust so loudly that he nearly gets himself killed again. He doesn’t mind, though, not one bit.</p>
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